


Centerfold

by cowboykylux



Series: Flip Zimmerman NSFW Alphabet Series [2]
Category: BlacKkKlansman (2018)
Genre: Come Eating, Come Marking, Come Swallowing, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Making pornography, Masturbation, Nude Photos, Oral Sex, Photo Shoots, Photographs, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Whipped Cream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:49:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23937142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylux/pseuds/cowboykylux
Summary: He exhales then, thick clouds of grey-blue smoke that wind around your bodies. He can tell you’re not wearing anything underneath that robe of yours with the way that the fabric slips away from your breasts a little too revealingly, and his jaw clenches for it.“Anyone ever tell you you’re trouble?” He says low, dangerous, hungry.Good, you think, you love when your man comes home with an appetite.
Relationships: Flip Zimmerman/Reader, Flip Zimmerman/You
Series: Flip Zimmerman NSFW Alphabet Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1721575
Comments: 13
Kudos: 77





	Centerfold

**Author's Note:**

> NSFW Alphabet prompt C&D (Come & Dirty Secret)

It’s late, real late when he comes home. So late that it’s a little too dark to read the clock face in the hall, but that’s alright. You knew it would be, when you spoke to him on the phone during his lunch break. Flip had been up to his eyes trying to connect dots and draw strings for the case, so you planned accordingly. You timed dinner perfectly; the oven dinged right as you heard the lock on the front door click open, as the familiar smell of your man’s cigarette smoke wafted into the kitchen before he did.

You can’t help a little grin spread across your face, can’t help your heart from fluttering just the smallest bit at the sound of his heavy boots. You had some candles lit around the living room, more for ambiance than light. No, the large fireplace was steadily crackling and filling the room with a warm glow, one that you hoped would put Flip in the mood.

Dinner needed some time to rest, to cool a little bit so it wouldn’t burn your tongues. You bit your lip, smiled around the thought of just where and how you wanted Flip’s tongue in the meantime.

“Welcome home honey!” You call out to him, taking off your apron and shaking your hair out as you leave the kitchen and greet him in the foyer. He’s hanging up his coat in the little closet by the door, and you don’t hesitate before wrapping your arms around his big middle, smiling up at him. “It was a little chilly out today, why don’t you come sit with me next to the fire?”

“What’s all this, ketsl?” Flip smiles down at you, just a little quirk of his lips around his cigarette. His eyes are so warm, so brown. He nods in the direction of the living room, gesturing to all the candles and the record player that’s softly playing.

“I thought tonight we could have some fun.” You smooth your hands up his chest, feeling how firm and strong his muscles are. He hums out happily as you loop your arms around his neck, kiss him slow slow slow while you whisper, “Unwind a bit, put on some music, have a little sex. You know.”

He exhales then, thick clouds of grey-blue smoke that wind around your bodies. He can tell you’re not wearing anything underneath that robe of yours with the way that the fabric slips away from your breasts a little too revealingly, and his jaw clenches for it.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re trouble?” He says low, dangerous, hungry.

Good, you think, you love when your man comes home with an appetite.

“Me? What’d I ever do?” You tease, taking him by the hand and leading him away from the foyer and into the living room.

He goes easily, happily. He looks tired, but that’s alright, you’ll let him sleep after you have your fun. You can already see the line of his dick pressing into his jeans, and that alone has your thighs rubbing together, has you wanting to get fucked.

He follows you, katchkaleh hot on your heels, and he stands behind you in the living room, your toes cushioned on the plush shag carpet.

“Mmm you’re just,” He pulls some of your hair away from your neck and face, tipping your head to the side so he can press hot open mouthed kisses to the skin there, can taste the beat of your pulse. “So so beautiful. I thought of you at work today, all day.”

“Oh yeah? Tell me what you thought about.” You encourage, taking the cigarette away from him and holding it between your fingers so that he can get both his hands on you.

They massage your breasts for a minute before sliding down down down your body, parting the fabric of your robe. You’re not wearing panties and he groans, lets his huge hand wedge between your inner thighs, feeling the heat of you, the wetness of you, the want of you.

“Your sweet pussy mostly.” He replies, voice deep and heady, “Was hopin’ to come home to see you naked, had to go jerk off in the back about it.”

Your body tingles all over at the thought, at his admission. He continues to kiss and suck on your neck, places bruises there over old bruises he left you that morning. The sting of pain makes your stomach clench in the best way, and your eyes slip closed as you feel him grind his cock against your ass.

“Did you take one of the pictures back with you? Did you jerk off and come all over the polaroids?” You asked, and he sucked in a deep breath.

That was one of his biggest dirty secrets, those pictures. Polaroids and 35mm stills he takes of you, asks you to pose for, jerks off over whenever he can’t jerk off over you. Late nights on a stakeout all alone, later nights sitting in the empty station had him browsing his collection of homemade pornography, amateur photos of you that have him spilling all over his fist in ten minutes flat.

“Yeah, fuck baby I did. But…” He groans just thinking about how often he sneaks looks at them, how they’re hidden in a false drawer in his desk, in a little tin container in the glovebox.

“But what?” You prompt, putting your hands over his and guiding one back up to your tits so he can pinch and squeeze at your nipples.

“The pictures are gorgeous, your body is just fuckin’ rocking, but I think it might be time to take some new ones.” You can feel it when he licks his lips, tongue brushing your cheek as he kisses you, “My cock’s so hard for you baby.”

You chuckle a little then, turn in his embrace so you can face him, so you can see how dark his eyes have gotten for you, how big those pupils have blown with lust.

“How do you want me?” You ask, letting the robe slip away from your body and pool around your ankles.

He’s entranced with you, with the way the fireplace crackles softly, the way the glow from the soft flames lick up your body.

He wants to lick up your body.

“However you want, just…” He doesn’t know where to look, so he looks everywhere. Doesn’t know where to touch, so he touches everywhere too. “Just let me come all over you when we’re done?”

“Oh, it’s going to be like that is it?” You grin, sinking down to your knees, unbuttoning his flannel on your way, “Want to see me covered in it?”

“Yeah.” He breathes, takes the cigarette back from you, sucks down the nicotine to give him some edge, some bit of control. Tonight is going to be long, going to be slow. He wants to take his time with you, has plans for you.

Plans that short circuit in his brain when you sit back on your heels and pull his cock out of his jeans, giving it a good steady stroke.

“Want to see me lick it up?” You bring your lips to his shaft and kiss it, little kisses on the vein which throbs up to the head. You tongue the slit and he pushes his hips in your face, smokes and smokes and smokes some more.

“Fuck – ” He fists your hair and yanks your head back just the littlest bit, just so that the fat head of his cock rests heavy on your tongue, drool already wanting to slide down your chin. He pulls you off of him ever so gently, and bends down until he’s on his knees too, until he’s caging your body underneath his with a breathy, “Please.”

You grin and lay back on the carpeting near the fireplace, already settling, already getting ready for a good fucking. Your knees part and he moans in the back of his throat for the way he rubs his dick through your folds, not quite pushing in, not just yet.

“You’re big.” You hum, tapping out a little rhythm onto his shoulders, your body moving to the beat of the sexy record you had softly playing in the background. “I like when you cover me.”

“Makes kissing you a bitch though.” He grumbles as he has to hunch himself down to meet your lips.

“Kiss me a little before fucking me then, get your fix.” You push his shoulders down so your faces are level with one another, eyes closing again to simply surrender yourself to the incredible feeling of your husband around you. “Let me get my fix of you.”

He hums into your mouth, kisses you slowly. One of his hands cups your neck, caresses your head. His hands are so fucking big, the way they span nearly the whole half of your face, the way they’re so warm. Your noses bump together as you breathe in time, as you suck the breath straight from his lungs, bitter and so so good.

Your bodies move together, sweat together ever so slightly. Being by the fire has you warmed up, being near Flip has you burning up. His jeans chafe your calves a little but you only moan for it, moan for him. He sucks on your tongue and you bite at his lips, your hands squeezing him, holding him close.

“You taste good.” Flip kisses you, licks across your teeth, “Like strawberries.”

“I made shortcake for dessert, thought I might spray whipped cream all over, have you lick me up.” You explain, and he drops his head into the crook of your shoulder and groans loudly.

“Oh fuck – fuck that’s – yes we should do that.” He says immediately, stumbles over your words as his dick rubs against your legs, makes him whine.

“Okay, okay but fuck me first, I’m gonna lose it if I don’t get your cock in me.” You laugh at how eager he is, joy bubbling up in your chest. You’re love-drunk for him, for Flip, and it makes your pussy wet that he’s the same.

You shove your hands under the waistband of his jeans then, and he gets the hint. Standing up for just as long as it takes to shuck off his jeans and socks, he lays on top of you nice and naked, as nude as you. He kisses you as he lines himself up, your legs parting for him, giving him room to shove himself into your space, into you.

“Ohh fuck ketsl.” He breathes out, face buried into your cheek.

That first hard thrust has you melting underneath him, has you wanting to do nothing but starfish out and be the pillow-princess you were. But he starts slow, a rolling buildup of pleasure that soon has you craving more.

You can tell he’s holding back, but you don’t want him to. You don’t, you want to hear the slap of his balls against your ass, want to hiccup out moans and sobs for his cock.

“Honey you can go faster.” You encourage, and he groans in appreciation, bites and suckles at the spot where your neck meets your shoulder, sinks his teeth right into you.

“God I’m gonna come so hard, and then I’m gonna eat some of this delicious fuckin’ dinner you cooked up and I’m gonna fuck you again and come in you again.” The faster his hips go, the more inclined he is to talk, and soon he’s rocking into you hard and rough, he’s scrambling to get your legs every which way.

“My pussy’s been so empty all day, fill me up!” You toss your head back and accept the pounding for everything it was, let yourself go boneless, relaxing for him so he can thrust in deeper, his cock feeling like it’s a mile long inside your body.

“Did you touch yourself while I was gone?” Flip asks around gulps of air as he brings your ankle over his shoulder.

“No I – oh fuck! – I waited, wanted to wait for you.” You answer honestly, smiling around a gasp for how he looks so fucking horny about that.

“You’re good to me, such a good girl – my good fucking girl fuck your cunt’s tight.” He grits, and you laugh, laugh before you’re moaning too loud to do anything other than hold on.

“I – I – oh yeah, yeah honey.” You drip praise from your tongue the way sweat from the ends of his feathered hair drips onto your tits.

He fucks you there by the fireplace for a while, every so often rearranging your legs, your bodies, your guts, so that he can get in deeper. He feels incredible, his big dick splitting you in half, the friction blazing the walls of your pussy, throbbing inside you.

He alternates between fucking you on your back, and rolling you onto your hands and knees, onto your side, pulling you onto his lap. He wants you every which way, wants you deep deep deep. You wind up back on your back, because he hates not looking at you, hates not seeing your face.

He’s working hard to fuck you right, and you yelp out in pleasure when he pinches your clit, nibbling on your ear as your body trembles underneath him.

“Flip! Flip I’m – harder please, fuck me harder!” You beg, a hand so tight in his hair, the other smacking his chest.

“I can feel it oh fuck I can feel how close you are,” He bites hard against your jaw, sloppy, so wet, tongue and lips swollen as your chest heaves. “Squeezing me so tight, don’t worry ketsl I’m not letting you go.”

“Oh I missed you yesyesyes -- !” Your back arches up as he spits into his hand and spreads his fingers through your folds, presses down on where his cock pistons fast into your pussy.

“Should’ve come to the – Christ – station, I would’ve fucked you hard, fucked you right in front of everyone, make them watch you come on my cock.” He’s babbling, not really meaning the shit he’s saying – but it’s sexy to think about it, to think about everyone looking at you on display, listening to the sounds you’re making right now.

“Phil!” You shout out his name, and he doesn’t pull his hand away, doesn’t stop fucking you. “Phil I’m – !”

You shout out a strangled cry then, because fuck oh how your orgasm crashes through you, how your body shudders and jolts under him, how your brain goes hazy and foggy with pleasure. Stars and spots dance across your vision as the world moves in slow motion, shocks rippling down your spine, curling your toes.

“I’m right here.” He pants, fucking you through it, cock dragging through your gushing cunt as he tries to get you to scream, “Come on honey I’m right here.”

He spits into your mouth hard, and you swallow it, swallow it like your cunt swallows his cock, even as it throbs and pulses around him, coating his dick is so much come, the wet slide loud in the quiet of the living room.

“I’m gonna come.” Flip groans then suddenly, the feeling too much, tipping him over.

“In me or on me?” You ask all dreamy-like, slowly slowly coming back to reality.

“Yes.” He grunts.

“No!” You laugh and playfully swat at his side as his hips take advantage of you going rag-doll limp under him, aftershocks still shivering through your thighs. “No you have to pick, the pictures, remember?”

“Ugh fuck, ketsl -- can’t – I can’t – ” He’s too wound up, so close, his stomach tensing, balls tight, panting in your ear and trying to kiss your cheek, your neck, but only getting as far as moaning against your throat.

“Come in me a little and then pull out?” You suggest, and he seems to like that idea because soon he’s cursing loud in your ear, punching his fist against the shag from the feeling as his hips push you so hard that your body chafes against the carpeting.

He never comes as loudly as you do, but he does cry out your name as he rolls his hips against yours for a minute. He could stay in there forever, inside your pussy. He knows it, you know it, and on any other evening you’d be content to let him fill you to the brim with it, but this was a special night.

“Close your eyes, be careful.” Flip mumbles as he winces, pulling his cock out of you and moving as quickly as his jelly body can handle to let hot ropes of come splatter all over your face.

He loves to come on your tits, and some accidentally gets on there anyway, but there’s something extra dirty about the way it clings to your nose, your mouth, your cheek. It’s so _hot_ and you resist the urge to lick your lips, not until he says, not until he’s got the camera.

He kneels over your chest and tugs at his cock, milks himself for any last droplet of come that he can, before sighing, exhausted. He still hadn’t eaten, and you almost want to bring this up to him, but he’s looking at you still with such a deep dark desire, that you don’t want to interrupt him.

“Stay like that, right like that.” He says eventually, the two of you giggling in the post-orgasm bliss, as he tries to stand up on wobbly knees.

“Mmm’kay.” You hum, let your fingers swirl around the come that slid down your chin and dripped into the pit of your throat.

Your eyes are closed, but you can hear Flip come back with a camera, can hear him checking the shutter, checking to see it’s loaded up with film. When he comes back, he’s laying down between your legs again, kissing your calves.

“Spread your legs,” He swallows hard as he raises the camera up to his eye, his big hands holding it steady, “Push my come back in your pussy, let me see it drink it up.”

You grin, bite the inside of your cheek as you lift a pleasure-weak hand to down between your legs, feel for the thick come that’s started to ooze out of you. You’re impressed with how much he came in you before pulling out – but then again you’re not surprised. Flip always had a big load.

“Like that?” You ask breathlessly as you can hear him taking photo after photo.

“Just like that honey-bunny, finger yourself with it.” His baritone ghosts your pussy and it clenches from the warmth of his breath, clenches around your fingers. “You’re so fuckin’ good at this ketsl, you got somethin’ you want to tell me? You one of them playboy bunnies while I’m at work?”

“Yeah, I’ve got Hef’s number right up here.” You moan as your fingers slide through your folds, sopping wet from your own come. He snaps another photo of it mixing, mingling there inside of you.

“I oughta kick his ass, seeing you like this. No one gets to see you like this but me.” Flip puts the camera down for a second to kiss the inside of your knee.

He smacks a kiss to the other one, before crawling up your body, taking photos along the way.

“And the poor guy over at the fotomart.” Your arms stretch over your head, pushing your tits out for him and his camera.

“He’s seen worse,” Flip leans down to suck your nipples into his mouth one at a time, getting them stiff in the firelight, smacking them to get them flushed before he takes his photos, “And I promise he ain’t poor for it.”

“Oh here – get this one.” You say as you pinch your nipples for him, hold them and tug on them while his mouth waters through the lens. His stomach growls then, and you both have a little laugh about it when you suddenly remember, “Go get the whipped cream?”

“Yeah, just – some lick up my come some more first.” He pinches your nose and gives your face an affectionate shake.

“Okay, do you – Phil!” You grin against his lips as he tackles you then, camera put down carefully as he rolls you on top of him, kisses you all over.

“Sorry, you’re just so pretty.” He says as an explanation, and you roll your eyes at how much you adore him and his sex-blotchy, reddened face.

“ _You_ go get the fuckin’ whipped cream, it’s in the door.” You push yourself off of him, settling onto your stomach.

He grumbles and groans loudly, dramatically, before getting up and leaving the living room with a smile.

“Nice ass!” You shout after him, and you can hear the deep rumble of his chuckle from all the way there.

When he comes back a minute or two later with the redid-whip icey cold from the fridge, he’s already aching for you all over again.

“Come take a seat on my thigh, let me get close to you ketsl.” Flip sits cross-legged on the carpet. You notice he’s grabbed a fresh pair of underwear from the laundry basket and you shake your head. He always did complain that the carpet itched.

He hands you the cannister, pops the top off and you immediately get to work while he fumbles with his camera. You can’t help yourself, you slowly grind your hips against his thigh, slowly working yourself up. His muscles shine with your slick but he’s not looking, he doesn’t look anywhere other than you.

“Oh Flip,” You sigh as you take a hold of it properly, rubbing your cheek all over it, “It’s so big, just like your cock.”

“What’s bigger?” He chews on his cheek, snaps some photos.

“Your cock is -- your cock is way bigger, I can barely fit my hands around it.” You say, shaking the whipped cream, getting it really aerated in the cannister, getting it all mixed up just the way the man on the commercial told you. You wondered if he knew how many people used those directions for their own pleasure?

“Shake it up faster baby, let me see you sweat.” He says evenly, and you can feel his cock hardening through his underwear for you again.

“Oh,” You moan as you ride his thigh, as you let your tits bounce from the speed which you shake up the can, “Oh Flip, I – I think it’s gonna blow.”

He nods, and you tilt the nozzle to let ribbons of the sweet cream coat your chest and face, a cartoonish comeshot captured on film. You spray the cream and ride his thigh, and he shoves a hand into your pussy to get you off again, making you fall forward a little just from the sensitivity of it all.

You come around a mouthful of whipped cream, and Flip puts the camera down so he can get both his hands on you properly, holds you close. He gets sticky with the whipped cream too, but he doesn’t give a shit.

“You’re too good to me.” He whispers against your cleavage where he’s licking up the whipped cream, not wanting any of it to go to waste.

“I like that you like looking at me.” You hum, carding a hand through his hair while he breathes you in, cleans you up. “I like that you don’t use those magazines.”

You had nothing against the magazines, but there was definitely something special about being the only one he wanted, about being the only woman who got him off.

“Why should I, when I’ve got my very own centerfold right here?” He looks up at you from between your tits, whipped cream all in his goatee.

You sweetly tug on his ear, before asking for a shower. He goes happily, so handsome under the warm spray.

And then like as if it were every other night, you find yourselves smiling at one another behind glasses of water and Coors, sitting in your pajamas at the table with a perfectly heated dinner. You didn’t care that it was late, not really.

Not when you and your man were so good about building up an appetite.

**Author's Note:**

> :^) come yell at me about flip over at @babbushka on tumblr!


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